Restless
by Herenya902
Summary: Dreams in Mordor are dangerous things full of haunted memories and things that can never be. So, Talion does what anyone else would do; he throws himself into battle and ignores his need to sleep. Unfortunately, his self-neglect has consequences. Celebrimbor tried to warn him, but since when has Talion actually listened to his wraith?


A/N I know that Shadow of Mordor is kind of an old game at this point but 1) I don't care, 2) it's still good, and 3) Talion and Celebrimbor wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write something. I've written other one-shots for the game which are not published because they're mostly horrible, and they all seem to center around the idea that Talion probably doesn't get much sleep. Poor Talion. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if anyone even reads this stuff anymore)!

Talion dashed between slashing blades, twisting his torso so that they slid along his armor and caused sparks to fly into the air. Then he spun and drove his dagger into the exposed chest of the Uruk, who grunted in pain and staggered backward, coughing blood as his hands clawed at the dagger for a few seconds before he collapsed to the ground. Talion watched as the Uruk coughed once, twice, then fell still. Face expressionless, Talion plucked his dagger from the corpse's chest, flipped it in his hand, and then sheathed it. Before he could move on, however, a glowing blue form appeared at his side. Sighing, Talion turned toward the wraith, arms crossed in front of him. He knew what the wraith would say, and he did not want to have this conversation. He hadn't wanted to earlier either, but that didn't stop Celebrimbor from trying. Truly, the stubborn nature of elves lived up to its legendary reputation.

"Talion," the wraith said, and even with just that one word, Talion could hear frustration. It almost made him smile, his ability to annoy his undead companion. "Stop. You cannot continue on like this."

"I don't know what you mean, wraith," Talion lied, the words slipping from his tongue despite their futility. The wraith was a part of him, and although Celebrimbor did not know his every thought, he could feel the shadows of his pain, his exhaustion. Talion had been pushing himself to the brink of his abilities and beyond for the past three days, and it was beginning to wear on him.

"Do not lie to me, Talion," Celebrimbor snapped, but then he shook his head and his voice softened as he continued, "You may come back after every death, but that does not mean that you should seek them. You need rest, Talion."

Talion shook his head in a terse movement. "I am not seeking death. We both know it will not give me what I want." There was a tense feeling there, a heaviness. Death, what was supposed to be an end to this mortal suffering, a release, had failed him. Nothing in this world could give him what he sought, not while he was bound to the wraith. "What I am seeking is justice, a goal I thought we shared." As he spoke, memories of a comrade, crying for his help, being cut down where he stood by a laughing Uruk, burned at Talion's mind.

With a firm shake of his head to banish the thoughts, he spun away from the glowing form of Celebrimbor and jumped from the ledge where he stood. As always, Celebrimbor's power flooded him, and he hit the ground unharmed. He could feel the frustration that the wraith was experiencing, but he pushed that to the back of his mind, focusing instead on the feeling of his feet as the hit the rocky ground, each step fueled by inhuman strength and speed.

Before long, a dark fortress was rising in the distance, and Talion could practically hear the elf lord sigh in his mind. Celebrimbor didn't approve of his plan, of course, but he would lend Talion his power regardless. Together they would tear the fortress apart until the captain who had murdered Karth arrived. And then, then Talion would exact his justice.

For nearly half an hour, Talion danced between blades and jumped from ruin to ruin, Uruk blood flowing with every strike of his blade. Under different circumstances, he would have stuck to the shadows, his blade silent and concealed. But not tonight. Tonight, Talion stood boldly in front of the campfires, the flickering light casting his shadow long over the rocky ground. He roared as he swung his blade, decapitating an Uruk who had gotten too close. Dark blood spurted from the severed neck, splashing onto the fire with a hiss.

Finally, a war horn sounded, announcing the arrival of the Uruk captain, and Talion grinned darkly. He lept towards the sound, firmly ignoring the warning feeling that Celebrimbor sent him. He would not back down from this fight, not now, not when he was so close to his goal.

After a few moments of searching, Talion found the Uruk captain and strode out to meet him on the jagged ground just outside of the fortress. He noted with some contempt the armored guards that the Uruk had brought. Did the creature truly believe that they would stop him?

"Gravewalker!" The Uruk called as Talion stepped into sight and drew his sword, and Talion heard the false bravado in his voice. "Are you ready to die on my sword just like your slave friend?" Talion didn't respond, instead, he charged forward, sword raised in the air and a feral cry on his lips.

The captain's guards rushed forward and planted their shields on the ground to meet his assault, but Talion didn't even slow his charge. Pushing off of the ground using the strength that Celebrimbor's spirit lent him, he vaulted into the air and over the heads of the guards, much to their astonishment. He hit the ground, rolled, and came up on his feet behind the Uruk captain, his sword flashing before the captain could even begin to turn. The sword scored along the captain's armored back, digging into the armor thanks to Talion's unnatural strength. The Uruk cried out in pain and spun around, slashing with his flame-covered blade. Talion met the sword with his own and grinned in the captain's face. "Ready to die?" he asked before jumping backward and causing the Uruk to stumble forward, his balance thrown off by the sudden lack of opposing force against his blade.

The guards regrouped and began to charge at Talion again, and he allowed the wraith to guide his hands as he stowed his sword and drew the ethereal bow, planting six arrows in six skulls. In a blink of an eye, Talion's sword was back in his hand, and the Uruk captain stood alone, the corpses of his elite guard piled at his feet. Talion watched as confusion turned to shock turned to rage, and the Uruk bellowed out a curse in the Black Speech before charging at him.

Blade met blade once more, and Talion began to lose himself in the familiar intricacies of swordplay. Blow for blow, he and the captain fought, exchanging hits and parries. The Uruk was skilled, Talion admitted silently as one of the captain's blows got through Talion's defense, cutting deeply into his side, but he stood no match against Talion and Celebrimbor's combined might. With that thought, Talion dashed forward and, with a burst of strength not entirely his own, cut through the Uruk's torso, rending him in half. Both parts fell to the ground, and the night became quiet, the silence disturbed only by Talion's harsh breathing.

For a few long moments, Talion simply stared at the cloven corpse, grim satisfaction washing over him. Then, he bowed his head and whispered a prayer to his fallen friend. "I have avenged you, brave brother, rest now." The words received no reply, but Talion wasn't expecting one. He gazed at the fallen Uruk for a moment longer before turning to walk away. As soon as he placed his first step, however, he stumbled, nearly collapsing. He pressed a hand to his side and drew it away covered in his own blood.

Ignoring the pain that rushed to the forefront of his mind, Talion stumbled away, his eyes fixed on a plant in the distance that he knew would help to ease the bleeding. In the back of his mind, he could feel...something...coming from the wraith, but his mind was too hazy with pain to decipher it. His steps became slower and slower, and he tripped over some unseen obstacle, tumbling to the rough ground. His vision began to fade, and he recognized the cold feeling of death settle over him. Then, his world turned to black.

. . .

Talion woke atop a silver tower. For a few moments, he simply focused on breathing deeply, enjoying the lack of pain in his side when he did so. Eventually, he sat up, leaning against one of the pillars that held the roof of this mystical place aloft. His eyes flitted across the glowing stones before falling upon the ghostly form of Celebrimbor. The elf was leaning against the stones, his posture mirroring Talion's own and his expression clouded.

"You died."

Talion's lips turned up ever so slightly. "I noticed."

"Your comrade is avenged."

This time, it was a true smile that spread across Talion's face. "Yes. Hopefully, now, his spirit can find rest."

Celebrimbor cocked his head. "And what about you? When will you rest?"

Instead of answering, Talion replied with another question. "How long has it been since I bled out and wound up back here?"

"Just over three hours," the eld lord responded, frowning. "Why?"

"Well," Talion said, standing as he spoke, "three hours seems like plenty of rest to me. These Uruks won't interrogate themselves." Talion moved to jump from the edge of the tower, but an ethereal hand wrapped around his forearm, stopping him. It was only here, in these silver towers of his own creation, that Celebrimbor had any substance to his form.

"No, Talion. You will sleep at least three more hours before we go anywhere."

Talion couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at Celebrimbor's tone. It almost sounded as if the wraith _cared_ about him, and the thought was laughable. "Come now, wraith. I thought you wanted to be freed from this curse as soon as possible. Now you want me to sleep?"

The elf lord sighed and let go of Talion's arm. "You men are far more stubborn than the histories say," he stated dryly. "Very well, I won't stand in your way, but I will warn you, Talion; if you continue to ignore your limits, you and I will both suffer."

"What are the Uruks going to do, Celebrimbor? Kill us?" Then, before the wraith could say anything, Talion turned and lept from the tower.

. . .

Four days later, four days with a total of five hours of sleep stretched between them, Talion found himself wondering if the wraith had been right about his exhaustion harming them both after all. He had fallen from his perch while spying on an Uruk camp of impressive size and now found himself facing several captains and their entourages. In the back of his mind, Talion felt Celebrimbor's resigned acceptance of the situation, which nearly made him grin. Unfortunately, Talion was quickly distracted as the first of the orcs began to rouse from their shock and charged toward him.

The first wave of attackers fell to Celebrimbor's bow and the second to Talion's blade. The third, however, pushed Talion back into a corner, and before long he had accumulated a number of shallow injuries. Eventually, he managed to turn the tide and slay the rest of the orcs, but the effort left him even more exhausted than he had been. That was when he remembered the captains.

There were three of them, and each of them bore an enchanted weapon. Before Talion could turn and run, for he knew there would be no winning this fight in his current state, an arrow struck him in the shoulder, causing him to roar in pain. Almost instantly, Talion felt his strength begin to ebb away and he knew the arrow was poisoned.

"It looks like you'll get your wish, after all, wraith," he said wearily, readying his blade in front of him. "I swear to you that once they kill me, I will rest." Celebrimbor didn't reply, but Talion could feel the elf's exasperation.

The hint of a smile flitted across Talion's face, then a second arrow struck him, burying itself deep in his other shoulder. Unable to hold the blade any longer, Talion dropped the sword and fell to his knees. His breathing becoming slower and shallower as the poison stole his lifeforce. As his vision faded, he saw the archer captain walk over and crouch in front of him, a grin on the green-grey face. He said something, but Talion's mind was too far gone to register the words. Once again, the cold set in and the darkness claimed him.

. . .

Talion woke slowly, and the first thing he felt was pain. For a few moments, his mind refused to process the implications of that pain, but when it finally did, terror washed over him, and his eyes snapped open. He was not atop a silver tower. Instead of softly glowing stones, he was surrounded by blood-soaked wood and twisted iron. He blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the light, and the realization dawned on him. The Uruk captains had taken him captive instead of killing him. Sighing heavily, the action bringing his pain flaring to life once more, Talion spoke into the silence.

"You can say it, wraith, I know you want to," Talion stated, his voice quiet. When no response came, he continued, "You told me something like this would happen if I did not rest, and you were right."

Finally, Celebrimbor's blue form appeared across from Talion, but the smug air that he had expected wasn't there. Instead, something resembling pain marred the ghost flesh of the wraith's face.

"Talion…" Yes, this time Talion was certain there was pain in the wraith's eyes. Before Celebrimbor could continue, however, heavy footsteps sounded, drawing nearer to the cage. Celebrimbor's form shimmered then vanished, and Talion turned his gaze to the front of the cage where a large orc, one of the captains who had captured him, stood, eyeing Talion like a prize cut of meat.

"Well, Tark, it looks like we found yer secret," the Uruk sneered. "Ya can't come back if yer not dead."

Talion raised an eyebrow, pushing down the fear that was beginning to bubble in his gut. "Truly, your intelligence is remarkable," he drawled. "How long did it take you to think of this plan? A few months? Or was it years? I've looked inside enough Uruk minds to know how slow your race can be." As soon as the words left Talion's mouth, a warning feeling flooded from the wraith's soul to his own, but inwardly, Talion only chuckled.

"I know what I am getting myself into, wraith," he whispered lowly, ignoring the way the orc captain's face contorted in rage. "It seems your sardonic nature has rubbed off on me."

"What did you say, Tark?" the captain questioned, stepping closer to the bars. "Speak up!"

"I said that it's a miracle creatures as dull as you can even hold a blade," Talion replied, once again ignoring the warning feelings that Celebrimbor sent him.

The captain stepped forward and grabbed the bars in front of Talion in a vicious movement. "I'd watch your tongue if I were you, _Gravewalker_," he sneered. "We Uruks are the ones with the power now." Talion simply stared back, face impassive. After a moment, the orc let go of the bars with a scoff. He said something in Black Speech before turning and stalking away.

Once the orc was gone, Talion took the time to examine his new surroundings. He was standing in a caragor cage, thankfully without a caragor in it, and looking beyond the bars he was able to see four other cages just like his lined up in a circle around a large platform. On the platform stood a gallows and stocks. Both were empty, as were the other cages, and the area was devoid of any orcs save for a few sentries.

"It seems we are to be the Uruks' sole entertainment, wraith," Talion remarked, sitting down and leaning against the bars. The metal quickly dug into his skin, which was protected only by the light clothing he wore under his armor, so he sat back up with a sigh.

There was silence for a few moments before Celebrimbor materialized, his glowing form sitting cross-legged in the center of the cage, eyes closed. If Talion didn't know better, he would think the elf was peacefully meditating. However, the ranger could feel Celebrimbor's unease. The feeling disturbed Talion more than the cage around him did, for he never knew the elf to be fearful of anything. Not even when they faced the Hand had Talion felt this level of apprehension from the elf.

Talion waited for a few moments for Celebrimbor to speak, but the wraith was silent. "What were you going to say," Talion asked, "before the captain interrupted?" He kept his tone conversational, not wanting to let the elf know that he could sense his worry.

Finally, Celebrimbor spoke, although his eyes stayed closed. "I was going to tell you not to antagonize them," he said. "These captains seem to be smarter than the rest. They know you need to die in order to regenerate, and the orcs know plenty of ways to torture a man while keeping him alive." The wraith's voice was devoid of emotion, almost artificially so, as if he were trying to conceal his true feelings from Talion. That only served to increase Talion's own worry. Still, he kept his own tone carefully neutral as he responded.

"As soon as the opportunity is available, I'll kill myself. Then, once I come back, we can hunt these creatures like the prey they are." The wraith said nothing.

. . .

Two weeks later, the opportunity for death still hadn't shown itself. For the first week, the orcs attempted to starve Talion, which amused the ranger as he no longer required food in order to survive. In fact, he required little of what he had needed when he had been alive. All that remained was his need to sleep, and even that was less pressing than it had once been.

After they realized that depriving their prisoner of food did nothing, the orc captains took turns forcing grog down his throat, causing Talion to sputter and choke as the vile liquid burned him from the inside out. Yesterday, he had tried to steal one of the archer's daggers, but the captain had noticed his maneuver and quickly stabbed him in the shoulder with a poisoned arrow. Talion had blacked out before he even hit the floor of his cage.

Now, he was awake, his head pounding and his thoughts sluggish. "Wraith?" he called, his voice hoarse.

This time, there was no period of silence. Celebrimbor appeared, his form kneeling over Talion. His ghostly eyebrows were knit together and had Talion had more of his wits about him he might have found the elf lord's concern for him touching. "That orc's poison is strong," Celebrimbor said frowning. "It is keeping your body too weak for me to possess, else I would have tried to shoot the captains while they were distracted by their sport." To Talion's surprise, the wraith sounded almost apologetic.

"Well, maybe we'll get lucky and he'll mess up the dosage next time and accidentally kill me," Talion quipped as he sat up, causing Celebrimbor's lips to turn up in a slight smile for an instant. Just as quickly as the expression had appeared, however, it was replaced with a deep frown.

"We should not be here," the elf lord said. "Our combined power is far greater than that of these captains. They should be the ones at our mercy, not we at theirs." Once more, Talion was taken aback by the concern in Celebrimbor's voice. Although they had spent a significant amount of time bonded together now, Talion hadn't believed that the wraith cared about anything beyond his goal of vengeance.

"They will grow tired of me eventually, elf, and then they will kill me and we can go back to preparing to forge this new ring of yours," Talion reassured, placing a heavy hand on the wraith's shoulder.

Celebrimbor didn't react to the touch. "But what will happen before then?" he mused aloud. Before Talion could reply with another sarcastic remark, the wraith vanished.

. . .

As it turned out, torture was what happened. Talion had been expecting it, of course, but that didn't make the abusive treatment any less painful. He had been in this cell for just over a month, and his body was covered in torn flesh, bruises, and broken or sprained bones. His right arm no longer worked, bent at an unnatural angle, and his nose was broken as well, the dried blood from the event still staining the tattered remains of his shirt. His jaw, as well, had been broken nearly two weeks ago and had healed out of place so that he could no longer talk or even scream without suffering excruciating pain.

By now, he was too weak to fight back or attempt suicide, although he had tried several times over the past month, and each attempt had earned him further pain. Instead, all he could do was lie in agony upon the cage floor that was stained with his blood. He tried to turn his mind to other thoughts, but the pain was omnipresent and blocked nearly all else out.

As Talion stared up at the ceiling, he saw a flicker of blue out of the corner of his eye. It moved closer, and Talion recognized it as Celebrimbor. The elf knelt at his side, but Talion's mind was too consumed by pain to register anything more than that. He couldn't see the pain in the wraith's face or the way that his fists clenched so tightly that, had he been alive, his fingernails would have drawn blood. Talion couldn't see any of it, his world made dark by the poison and pain.

. . .

Talion was the orcs' plaything for a month and a half. By then, all of his limbs were broken, one of his eyes had been gouged out, the other swollen shut, his right hand had been burned to the bone in several places, he was missing his left foot, and his torso had accumulated so many cuts that it would have been difficult for a person to tell what part of him was unmarred, healing, or still bleeding.

Late one night, after Talion had suffered nearly three hours of torture at the hands of the archer captain, whom Talion had come to regard as the most sadistically clever of the three, noise erupted from the camp near the cages. Had Talion been aware enough, he would have realized that a rival band of orcs was attacking. As it was, however, his damaged mind didn't even register the commotion.

The fighting spread into the area where the cages had been set up, and the three captains who had captured Talion were fighting for their lives. A warchief had attacked them, and his forces were making short work of the camp. As they fought, Celebrimbor paced the cell, paying no heed to the battle until he saw the arrow hurtling towards the cage. Knowing that Talion was too far gone to register it, Celebrimbor possessed the ranger's body in a burst of energy. His control was weakened by the poison coursing through Talion's veins, but he was able to cause Talion's body to jerk to the side, directly into the path of the stray arrow. The projectile buried itself in Talion's heart, and the world turned black.

. . .

This time, when Talion woke, there was no pain. At first, his mind couldn't comprehend the lack of agony which had been so present for so long and he wondered if the archer had created some new poison. When he forced his eyes open, however, he saw the comforting glow of white bricks, not the twisted bars of his metal cage. Slowly, he let out a breath of relief and leaned back against the stone, relishing in the pain-free feeling.

After a time, he didn't know how long, Talion sat up and looked around him for the familiar blue figure of the wraith that was his companion. He found him standing with his back to Talion, gazing over the dark lands of Mordor. Talion reached out with his mind to try and get a hint of what the elf was thinking, but he was met with a wall. For some reason, Celebrimbor was hindering their connection.

"Wraith?" Talion asked his mouth capable of speech once again, but the elf-lord didn't turn, and so Talion stood on healed legs and walked over to him. Still, Celebrimbor didn't move, and Talion reached out with his mind.

'_Celebrimbor?' _he asked in his mind. He rarely spoke to the elf lord this way as he preferred to keep his mind to himself, or at least maintain the illusion that it was wholly his own. Still, there was no response. Unsure of what else to do and feeling whole once again, Talion moved to jump from the tower and continue their quest, but Celebrimbor stopped him, gripping his arm tightly.

"You swore you would rest," the elf said, but his voice didn't match his words. Instead of his usual commanding tone, Celebrimbor's voice was quiet and raw. If he had been a living person, Talion would have wondered if the elf had been crying.

Stunned by the elf's tone, Talion stepped back and wordlessly crossed the tower to the small cot that he had made for himself when he and the wraith had first reclaimed the tower. He paused, wanting to say something, but he found himself at a loss for words, and so he laid down and closed his eyes. Before long, sleep wrapped him in its embrace, and Talion's worry for the elf lord fell away.

. . .

Talion woke screaming. His eyes flew open as the sound clawed its way from his throat, For several moments, he was unaware of his surroundings and he clawed at his skin in an attempt to somehow free himself from the sheer terror that consumed him. Then, a glowing hand rested itself on Talion's, and the ranger stilled. His chest heaved as he fought to control his breathing, and it was several minutes before Talion truly gained control of his senses once more.

Looking up, he saw Celebrimbor kneeling over him just as he had done so many times during Talion's imprisonment in the Uruk camp. The elf lord's face was pained, and as soon as he was able, Talion asked, "What is it, Celebrimbor? You have been distant, even more so than usual, ever since I was captured."" This was not the first time that the wraith had drawn Talion from the haze of a nightmare, and never before had Talion seen such pain in the elf's eyes.

Celebrimbor stood and turned away, and Talion thought that the wraith would ignore his question, but after a long pause, he spoke. "When Sauron captured Eregion, he took my family prisoner as well." Talion nodded, although the wraith couldn't see. He remembered. He had seen that memory through Celebrimbor's eyes, felt his pain as his own. "At first, he only tortured me, trying to force me to reveal where the lesser rings were hidden. When that didn't work, he turned his malice on my wife and my daughter."

"Celebrimbor," Talion interrupted before the elf could continue, "you don't need to relive those memories on my account. I understand." And he did. In fact, he felt foolish for not having realized the effect that his capture had had on the elf lord.

The wraith, however, shook his head. "No, you don't. When my family was tortured, all I could do was watch as they suffered. I knew their pain was my fault, that all of the ruin that Sauron had caused rested upon my shoulders. It was excruciating. But eventually, they found peace in death, and there was nothing more that Sauron or anyone else could do to them." Now Celebrimbor finally turned to Talion, and the ranger could see the ghosts of tears glistening in the elf lord's eyes.

"But when you were tortured, somehow, it was worse." The elf let out a humorless bark of a laugh. "I could feel the ghosts of your pain, and at times, you were in enough agony for it to feel as if the uruks were cutting into _my_ flesh instead of yours." He dropped his head and his voice became quiet once more as he whispered, "And still, I was powerless. Together, we have brought legions of orcs to their knees! And I could do nothing but watch. I barely had the strength to lurch you into the path of a stray arrow, and that seems like too little too late."

Talion was stunned. He hadn't expected such honest vulnerability from Celebrimbor. The elf had never opened up to him like this before, not even when they had been uncovering his lost memories, and so Talion didn't know how to react. After a moment, he settled for saying, "Thank you for that, Celebrimbor. I doubt I would have had the strength to move on my own." The elf didn't respond, and Talion sensed that there was something deeper that was bothering him.

Once again, Talion reached out with his mind. '_There is more,' _he pressed, and, after a moment, he felt the elf reply.

'_Yes,'_ he admitted, '_but I will not burden you with it.' _

'_Celebrimbor.'_

The wraith sighed aloud and sat beside Talion's bed, leaning against the white stone. "You have suffered instead of me. By inhabiting your body, I am saving myself from pain, using you as a shield. In my life, I would have considered the idea abhorrent. Now, it takes your torture for me to realize how cruel it is." As he spoke, Celebrimbor kept his eyes trained on some distant point, never meeting Talion's gaze. "I knew that I was condemning you to a fate worse than death when I bonded my spirit with yours, but now I see just how much worse a fate it is. How many times have you suffered the pain of death and yet found no release because my spirit binds you here?"

The question was rhetorical, Talion knew, but he thought about it anyway and realized that he truly had died too many times for him to count. Many of his deaths had been quick, but there had been plenty that were slow. Times when he had slowly choked to death on poison or when he had been skinned alive or the several times that he had bled out, too weak to seek out any herbs to heal himself. But he did not regret them, and he did not blame the elf-lord for them.

"I made my choice, Celebrimbor," he assured the elf. "At first, you lied to me and for a time, I was bitter. But I chose to remain here so that together we may forge a new ring and challenge Sauron. This is not your fault."

Celebrimbor didn't look convinced. "You have pushed yourself beyond your capabilities, denying yourself the one thing you still need to function, all to aid me in my vengeance. You say it was your choice, but I pushed you to it. What right did I have to do so, to continue to do so?"

Talion shook his head. "It's not just about your vengeance, Celebrimbor," he said. "I'm still a ranger of Gondor at my core, and by staying here, I'm protecting my home. I chose this," he repeated.

Celebrimbor didn't respond, but Talion felt some of the weight that rested on Celebrimbor's mind lessen. Talion eyed the wraith for a few more moments before standing. "Come, we have a ring to forge." Celebrimbor grinned slightly at that, and together they jumped off the edge of the tower.

A/N I hope you enjoyed that little story. If you did, leave me a comment/review. I love hearing from my readers!


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